


Mr. & Mr. Smith

by Roriette



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Established Relationship, FBI Agent Erwin, Humor, M/M, Marriage, Marriage Counseling, Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU, Spy! Eren, and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-05-06
Packaged: 2018-01-21 05:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1539026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roriette/pseuds/Roriette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How often do you have sex?"</p><p>A cricket silence envelopes the office.</p><p>Erwin drops his hand, Eren moves away.</p><p>"I'm sorry?"<br/>-<br/>or; two married guys who have no idea what's going on in their marriage. </p><p>-(based on Mr. and Mrs. Smith)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> er, this was supposed to be for erurenweek, but then it got pushed back up to the asscrack of another month, which is okay, but I almost forgot I wrote this, so here's me dishing this out before I completely forget about it lmao
> 
> based on Mr. and Mrs. Smith movie.

Mr. and Mr. Smith

 

**01.** _ maybe we have a problem. maybe _

**~*~**

**8:12 AM.**

**Dr. Springer's Office, duo-counseling.**

 

"Where did you first meet?"

 

"Barcelona," Erwin Smith takes the first question with ease. He leans back into the sofa more comfortably, long leg draped over the other and hands clasped together. Dark grey vest, white collared shirt, black tie, silk trousers, polished dress shoes, blonde hair parted impeccably from the left, ocean blue eyes focused. Businesslike. 

 

"Spain," his young partner on the adjacent sofa supplies helpfully. "Barcelona, Spain. Summer."

 

Erwin flicks his gaze to the casually dressed brunet: navy hoodie zipped to the collar, formfitting skinny jeans, worn sneakers, grey beanie, mussed brown hair, forest green eyes nervous but focused. As if he just rolled out of bed. Which is sadly not far from the truth.

 

"Spain. Barcelona, Spain," Erwin intones. 

 

Eren Smith, his young husband, grins.

 

"When you did you meet?"

 

Erwin thinks that the questions are simple enough that they shouldn't have even bothered to come, but Eren had been adamant that there was something upsetting their mundane marriage, and he was certainly no idiot to try and dissuade the youth when he knew the battle was lost as soon as Eren started jutting his lips and glaring. And so here they are, husband and husband, sitting down together for over ten minutes – record breaking, considering they usually only greet each other briefly in the house – and getting real personal with their marriage therapist.

 

This isn't the best way to spend a Saturday morning, and Erwin has certainly more important matters to attend to. A marriage that he has yet to sight problems with is certainly not on that list. 

 

"Five years ago," he replies in the surefire way that he uses to command his intelligence squad with.

 

"Six."

 

Erwin can feel a heated glare burning the side of his face from the right. He looks over and meets Eren's dark scowl and takes a second to regret having looked at all.

 

He swallows something uncomfortable and clears his throat before concluding, "Five to six years ago."

 

"How would you describe your first encounter?"

 

He finds that it's quite hard to think about the blurry past when all he can think about is trailing his target and how much time he's lost during this counseling appointment. Tapping a finger against his cheek, he grabs at the first memory of meeting the young brunet and hopes that it's the correct one.

 

If it's not, well, he supposes he can always blame it on his aging brain cells. It's a valid excuse, considering he's turning thirty this year, and Eren should understand that an old man like him can never best a young man in his prime. 

 

"It was at a ball, if I recall correctly. A private ball, RSVPs only, celebrating a merge between two companies. I found a young man – Eren, that is – having a hard time with the barista at the bar. It turned out he had forgotten his I.D, and he didn't look quite the part of a legal man." 

 

"I was perfectly legal," Eren interrupts. "The bartender was just a major douche."

 

"Let me finish, Eren."

 

"Okay, but I'm just saying."

 

Erwin loosens his black silk tie. What was the rest of the story? He had met Eren at the bar...and oh. Right, he was on the run from a Spanish mafia gang and had to somehow conform with the couples at the ball. His undercover mission on a specific gang had been compromised by a mafia spy, and he had to find a way to camouflage. It was a good thing the ball was a big event, and he mingled just fine in the thousands. "So I helped him out with the drink, and one thing led to another. I asked him to accompany me on a dance, fell in love with him, and we got married the next week."

 

Half of it is a lie, and half of it is the truth. The truth is that he did fall in love, and the lie is that he wasn't at the ball to dance. But it makes for a solid story, and that's what the therapist wants to hear. 

 

Erwin looks over to check up on his young husband and finds Eren's brilliant green eyes trained on him. Such an intense gaze. He hasn't seen that look in a long time. A small smile breaks his poker face as he reaches over and pats the beanie on the boy's head affectionately. Eren leans into the touch like a cat. See? No problems. Their marriage is perfectly A-OK. 

 

"How often do you have sex?"

 

A cricket silence envelopes the office.

 

Erwin drops his hand, Eren moves away.

 

Eren opens and closes his mouth like a fish. No sound comes out, but the red flush over his face is outspoken.

 

"I'm sorry?" Erwin beats him to it.

 

"Are you intimate? How would you rate your sex life?"

 

An awkward pause.

 

The silence hangs, more suffocating than a coffin.

 

This time, Eren finds his voice, "Do married couples have one-night stands? Because I'm pretty sure they don't, but we didn't exactly have sex more than once. Err...but it's not zero, because we... _did_. Did we have...a one-night stand, Erwin?"

 

Had Erwin been any less composed, he would crush his face into his hands in defeat. But as he is Erwin Smith, the Special Ops' supreme commander with a novel reputation of being the man with a mindset and composure harder than a steel wall, he merely turns his attention to the bald-headed therapist with an unfaltering nod.

 

"We'll keep it at one. One out of ten."

 

-

**8:45 A.M.**

**Dr. Springer's Office, solo-counseling.**

 

"Are you personally dissatisfied with your marriage, Mr. Smith?"

 

Erwin blinks. "Not particularly. Rather than 'dissatisfied,'" he emphasizes, recrossing his legs, "it's more that we're both rather busy individuals who lack quality time to do much of anything. It's not something we can control, so there is no right for me to feel dissatisfied."

 

"Do you think that the age difference affects the marriage?"

 

Taking into consideration that they don't see each other for more than ten seconds per day, he can't say, really. Eren is only twenty-three and goes to a private university. He's probably tied down to his classes just as he himself is tied down to work. "Eren is mature in his own right," he decides to answer. "I believe that the innocence he possesses is more of an endearment than a hurdle. Age is, after all, only a number, and Eren has taught me that well."

 

Plus, Eren gets particularly touchy about the subject, enough to make it taboo in the Smith household. Though, seeing him get so irritated by the knowledge of their age gap only serves to amuse Erwin. It's quite cute, honestly. Not that he'd be stupid enough to say that out loud in a world where the threat of a leg just reaching for an excuse to meet his sensitive nether region looms large.

 

"Do you feel that more intimacy would bring the two of you closer?"

 

Erwin folds his hands together. "Certainly. But as I've already mentioned, we're busy enough that it doesn't cross our minds as often as other married couples. Unless," he drags out the word like he's dragging meat from a steak bone, staring directly at the therapist, "you feel that the lack of intimacy will, perhaps, bring _ruin_ to our marriage."

 

"W-well, yes, statistics have showed that couples who show more affection tend to stay together longer. In order to avoid _potential_ ," the therapist likes to stress on the word like he's walking on a thin, thin line, "problems, my solution for you is to start small and work your way up. You should get comfortable with touching your partner until it becomes natural as air. How does handholding sound?"

 

-

**9:15 A.M.**

**Dr. Springer's Office, solo-counseling.**

 

"Handholding?" Eren echoes. 

 

"Yes, handholding. All you have to do is gently grab your partner's hand and hold it whenever you can, whether it's in the house, outdoors, or on a date."

 

"I don't think it's a bad idea, but two grown men..." he trails off, looking down at his hands. He tries to imagine Erwin's large ones clasped around his as they're out on the streets, and a steaming blush warms his cheeks. He can't imagine it. That's just silly. "I think that's probably not going to happen."

 

"If I'm correct, you were the one who made this appointment, right, Mr. Smith?"

 

"Yes," Eren replies, sitting straighter.

 

"Then you are the one who feels the disconnection in the marriage the most. Do you believe that intimacy will bring the two of you closer?"

 

Taking a moment to think, Eren's brows pinch and crease. "I feel like Erwin and I don't communicate or even hang around enough, so it's really awkward when I want to touch him." Eren lowers his eyes to the oak floor, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck. "I don't remember the last time we hugged, kissed, or anything. Is this normal for married couples?"

 

"Six years is a long time, Mr. Smith. I think you two need to work on bonding together. You must conquer the basics of a relationship. A relationship starts small: handholding, hugging, or perhaps even kissing the cheek. Your husband Erwin Smith has already agreed to the first week of the lovers' trial. Are you ready to fight your problems, too, Eren Smith?"

 

At the word _fight_ , Eren's ears immediately perk up. 

 

That's right. He has to save this falling marriage. He has to mend the cracks and recreate the spark that led them to each other. Erwin has decided to do the same. Why should he fear anything?

 

"All right," he breathes quietly. "I'll do it."

 

"Good. I'll see you in a week, Mr. Smith."

 

Eren stands up, butt numb from sitting for so long. 

 

"Last question before you leave: do you feel that the age difference between you and your husband is a factor and cause for the drift apart?"

 

Green eyes swivel and lock on the brass nameplate on the modest work desk, dark irises tightened like a sprung rubber band on the verge of catapulting.

 

**Connie Springer**

Private Counselor, Ph.D

 

"You know, Dr. Springer, I think you're a great therapist and all, so don't you think it'd be a _shame_ , if say, the rest of your body hair disappears as well?" – a venomous tone and toxic glare shooting across at the therapist, from the top of the bald head to the down bottom below the belt – "Because if it is, I'll advise you to politely shut the hell up."

 

Eren lets his killer stare linger for another meaningful second before he turns and slams the door shut behind him.

 

Bang!

 

Dr. Connie Springer finally allows his sweaty, bald-headed self to wither like a wilted plant on his leather chair. The first day of the problematic Smith counseling is over. Finally over. But damn...

 

"Is it too late to resign...?"

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, daily updates tho!  
> thanks for duh read and stuff, here's part 2.

Mr. and Mr. Smith

**02.** _like, really touch each other?_

~*~

**Day 1**

**6:25 A.M.**

**Smith Household**

 

The house is quiet like it normally is. The dark blue sky is ominous, grey clouds shrouding the sun like they're determined to shut off the world.

 

Eren grabs a glass off the kitchen counter and fills it up with milk, the action groggy and uncoordinated. He nearly misses the mouth of the glass, but good thing he doesn't, because he really doesn't feel like cleaning anything this early in the morning. Granted, he doesn't feel like doing anything in general, but alas, _c'est la vie_ , and he has an exam in an hour. 

 

He leaves the kitchen and thumps his body down on the living room couch. He only managed four hours of sleep last night. It fucking sucks. He had stayed up late researching a rival firm and figuring out ways to infiltrate their ranks, and by the time he finalized his point of espionage, the sun was already rising. 

 

His cover as a university student majoring in general business was supposed to be a simple cover and additional resource for his night job. He just didn't know at that time what a giant mistake it was. There's so much work involved in his required courses, add on his double job as a spy, and he pretty much has no social life. The company that owns him, has owned him since he was thirteen, when the chairman found him on the streets, makes sure of that. 

 

After all, a spy can't have social connections. Secretive work must be kept as under the radar as they can. Friends, family, and lovers are prohibited. But he never had a family, hardly had time to make friends, and definitely didn't have time or interest in tagging along a lover. The rules in his line of work didn't bother him as much as he thought they would.

 

Which is why when he met and married Erwin Smith in that one particular week in Barcelona, he himself was probably the most shocked out of everyone. A marriage, a relationship with a man, all in one week –

 

Maybe it was his one act of independence, some sort of mini rebellion, because he had turned eighteen, finally became an adult, and there it was, a great opportunity to prove that he was free of the company.

 

It's all a blur, really, because it happened so fast. One minute, they were at the bar, then, dancing, the next week, they were arm in arm, down the aisle to the altar. 

 

But even then, the company used his marriage as a convenience on their part. The chairman "allowed it because it benefited the mission," and should he ever think about cutting his ties, "we won't be able to guarantee your husband's safety."

 

It was a blatant threat. 

 

_Never_ had he been angrier than that day. 

 

He was a breadth away from strangling the chairman, be damned if he were the one who made him who he was today. Be damned if he were the one who gave him an opportunity to live. The chairman has _no right_ , absolutely zero fucking _right_ , to use Erwin as a hold, like a mere pawn, over him. But it was effective, no matter how he scorned, despised, loathed the company. It was effective, and the threat kept him rooted to his job. 

 

Firm footfalls down the mahogany staircase alert him, and he sits up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes forcefully with his wrists.

 

"Morning, Eren." Erwin sounds worn, but his voice is comforting and pleasant as always. His greeting is a low rumble. Must have just woken up. 

 

He won't lie; it sounds nice. Really nice.

 

"Morning," he replies, yawning. 

 

"You're up early today."

 

"Exam," Eren says shortly. He finally looks over at Erwin and finds him in the kitchen, taking out a box of teabags from the cupboard. His eyes automatically land on the exposed skin of Erwin's shirtless back. Broad shoulders, prominent shoulder blades, hard planes, lean muscles, slightly tanned skin, the expanse of flesh ending at the dip of his back, covered by a strip of black reading _Emporio Armani_. Loose sweats adorn his long legs. In the dim blue light coming in from the windows in front of the sink, he can see traces of scars on the man's back. 

 

He's never asked about them, and Erwin never brings them up. It's one of those mutual secrets they've silently agreed to keep. 

 

"Earl Grey?" Erwin asks him.

 

"Had milk. I have to go soon anyway." Eren grabs his bookbag off the floor and sticks his arms through the hooks. 

 

"All right."

 

That's their usual morning routine. Quick acknowledgement of each other's presence and then move on to their respective duties. Though, on a more frequent basis, they hardly meet in the mornings at all due to their differing schedules. Erwin's schedule is unpredictable. There are days that go by without him even seeing the man. Not that he has a right to say anything on that matter, considering he has a similarly unorthodox work schedule. 

 

Lately, it feels like Erwin and he are just two guys rooming in an extravagant single home. It doesn't feel like a marriage. Is this what marriage is supposed to be? Two individuals who greet each other in the day and sleep in separate rooms at night? Well, he may have a stunted knowledge of what people in relationships do, but this kind of flimsy interaction and almost no communication outside of the house doesn't seem at all anything like a marriage.

 

That's why he called and made that appointment with the marriage counselor, Dr. Springer. He doesn't know if he can trust the baldy, but so far, the things he said made sense. The problem is the _application_. He needs to try and touch Erwin like the therapist told him to. That's the first step in keeping interest and letting the other person know you're there, or something like that, whatever the doctor said. 

 

But it's hard to break habit and routine. It's awkward and weird. He can't just go up to Erwin, grab his face, and kiss him, just like that...right? 

 

"Hey...Erwin?" he finds himself saying, hesitantly. 

 

"Hm?"

 

"We're supposed to be touching each other, right?" 

 

"Hm..."

 

"Like, really touching each other?" 

 

"Mhm..."

 

Irritated by the lack of response, Eren turns away from the door and comes face to...a really, _really_ defined six pack of muscled abs and chest. _Woah there._..

 

Erwin suddenly pulls him into a hug, strong arms slipping around his waist. His face is pressed against the blonde's hard chest, warmth flowing body to body, encasing him in this secure embrace, making him nearly breathless. He looks up at the taller man, green eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. Erwin bends down and places his lips on his forehead lightly, large hand supporting the back of his neck. 

 

"Good luck, Eren," Erwin says, a small smile on his chiseled face. 

 

"T-thanks," he stumbles, the red flush slowly catching up to his surprise. Then, he feels a warm grasp on his ass, an almost moan caught in his throat. It squeezes him tightly, long fingers digging into the meat like they want to leave indents, an index dangerously close to brushing his –

 

And then it's gone.

 

"Erwin...did you...just...squeeze my ass?"

 

"Is that a problem?"

 

"...No. But – " _now I'm hard._ He shakes his head, swiveling on his feet to the door. He's going to be late. There's no way he can miss this exam. Even if he has to take it with a hard-on. 

 

Damn Erwin.

 

"Do you need a ride, Eren?"

 

" _What?_ " 

 

He spins around, only to meet an amused smile. Oh shit...

 

A hot red blossoms over his cheeks, all the way up to his burning ears.

 

This is so embarrassing. He's not even a virgin anymore, so what the fuck...

 

Even so, he can't help but snap a huffy, more out of embarrassment than anything else, "No, thanks," before spinning back around and nearly leaping out of the house.

 

As he'd guessed, he does end up sitting through the first fifteen minutes of the exam with a raving imagination and a raging hard-on. 

 

-

**Day 2**

**5:42 A.M.**

**Smith Household**

 

Erwin heads to the last room on the second floor, careful in muffling the sound of his footsteps. He had just returned from a conference regarding what seemed to hit the news as a terrorist hijacking scene and is understandably tired beyond belief. The life of a secret agent is one that's both stressful and dangerous. He hopes Eren never gets mixed up in one of his jobs down the road. Many agents who aren't cautious enough fall into the trap of dragging their families and loved ones into their missions. They don't hide their secrets well enough, and the people who stumble upon those weak threads stumble upon gold.

 

It's a faint hope, but he has managed to keep his private life hidden and secretive to the point that most of the FBI agents he works with have no idea he's even married. Although it's the disheartening truth, it's one that will protect Eren, and that's really all that matters.

 

He slips into Eren's room quietly. The brunet has a terrible habit of not closing his door before he sleeps. 

 

He has his face turned toward Erwin, arms wrapped around a pillow, blanket tangled around his limbs. 

 

Erwin smiles, sitting down on the edge of the bed, hand reaching to ruffle the brown mat of hair. 

 

"Ngh..." Eren's brows crease, mouth twitching. 

 

"Eren, I won't be home tonight. I have something to take care of," he states softly.

 

The brunet doesn't open his eyes, but he inches forward, closer to the heat. His hands find Erwin, and he reaches his arms around to circle his waist, sleepy face burrowing into his back. 

 

"Mhm..."

 

"I will be back tomorrow evening, so perhaps we can go out to have dinner."

 

Eren yawns tiredly, inhaling and exhaling against his shirt and causing warm tingles to run up his spine. "...Mhm..."

 

"Stay safe, Eren. I'll see you then."

 

"Bye, Erwin," Eren mumbles, voice cracking. He lets go of his waist and falls easily back into sleep, arms automatically returning to the fluffy pillow.

 

Erwin shuts the door behind him quietly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yeah, the rating bounced. it was eventually going to jump, so you know.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> day 3's like super long. it's not even done yet. too bad I'm lazy and I thought it was going on for too long, so here's it.

Mr. & Mr. Smith

 **03.** _it's a date_

 

  **~*~**

**Day 3**

**4:54 P.M.**

**Trost University**

 

"Dinner?"

 

"Yeah. We can grab a bite in the dining hall or something."

 

Eren checks the time on his touchphone. 4:54 P.M.

 

"But I guess, I mean, if it's too early, we can go check out that house party. You seem like the party type."

 

 _(1) New Message._  

 

A text message? He presses it. 

 

 **Erwin S. [4:55 PM]:** I'll be home in half an hour, Eren. Wait for me, and don't forget to dress formally. I made the reservation at Maria for 6:30pm.

 

After the initial surprise of actually receiving a text longer than two words from his busy spouse wears off, Eren finds himself unable to hold back a contented smile. His thumbs quickly tap out a response. 

 

_ Okay, husband. _

 

Delivered.

 

"Hey...you paying attention? I'm saying we can go have some fun, you know. They got beer and pizza. Pick up some chicks, do the thing, it's gonna be fun."

 

Eren pockets the phone and finally turns his attention on the guy next to him. He looks like a straight up jock, all sinewy muscle, tan, tight wifebeater, basketball shorts, and an Obey snapback fitting over his blonde hair. He's on one of the Trost University sports teams, maybe three, and has been rumored to be good with the ladies. His eyebrows have this arch to them that makes him look more intimidating than he actually is. 

 

Reiner Braun. 

 

He and Reiner are kind of sort of friends. They have this one obscure class together – hip hop history – and that's how they met. At first, Reiner's a little overbearing. He has this "I'm-friends-with-everyone" complex, and no matter how passive aggressive "I-don't-want-to-be-your-friend" Eren acts, the guy doesn't budge. Somehow or another, Reiner has him tagging along in his hangouts, forcing him to actually talk to his college mates. He has yet to decide whether he even enjoys their company. But Reiner's a surprisingly cool guy, despite how well he pulls off the douchebag look two-thirds of the time. So he supposes, maybe, they're friends.

 

Having a friend doesn't have a bad ring to it. 

 

"Unless you got something else to do. Bert's gonna be there too, and a couple others that you haven't met yet. So how about it?" Reiner says, leaning on the counter where people get their orders.

 

"Not today. I've got something else to do," replies Eren, shouldering Reiner aside to take his ordered Starbucks beverage. White chocolate mocha latte, hot and smelling delicious. Perfect. 

 

The husky blonde hums, wriggling his brows suggestively. "Girlfriend? The one that you were texting earlier?"

 

Eren pauses, lips touching the white bottle cap without taking a sip. Girlfriend? 

 

"Did I hit the mark or nah?" Reiner leans in, smirking. 

 

Just as he's about to reply, he feels a buzz in his back pocket. He can hear Reiner chuckling. Ignoring the man, Eren takes a look at the new message, stomach dropping and heart thumping weirdly when he sees the contact ID.

 

 **Erwin S. [5:06 PM]:** Indeed, sweetchums. 

 

He flushes. 

 

_ Gross _

 

_ Haha  _

 

But as an afterthought, he adds:

 

_ Honey ;) _

 

And then he backspaces so fast it's gone like it's never been typed.

 

"Not a girlfriend," he responds, leaving the coffee shop with Reiner behind him. Just a small pep in his step, barely noticeable. He's happy, in an embarrassed kind of way, but happy nonetheless. _Now_ it feels like he's (somewhat) married. He kind of forgot that Erwin has a bit of a _sappy_ streak. Well, perhaps not sappy, exactly. More like a mocking sappiness. He's a tease, under that charismatic cover. 

 

A heavy pressure around his shoulders pulls him close to Reiner. The guy has his arm around him good-naturedly, like they've been allotted the title 'BBFs' since birth, and it's goddamn heavy. It's like he's Atlas, trying to hold up the world on his shoulders. As if it's not enough that his self-esteem is already a deflating balloon, when he has the honor of witnessing Erwin's superb physique twice a week put his thin arms, legs, and barely-there abs to bittersweet crumbles of shame. 

 

"Hey, Reiner, what do you do to get this...buff?" he asks, poking at the mass of hard bicep resting on his shoulder. 

 

"I'm on the wrestling team. I also drop by the rugby team and play a few games with them occasionally. Why? You wanna join?" the blonde says, swiftly glancing over Eren with a critical look. 

 

"What do you think?" Eren puffs out his chest and stands straighter, looking intently at Reiner. 

 

The taller man cracks a laugh, patting him on the back with too much force, almost knocking his breakfast and lunch up his throat. "Pack some meat before you apply to get your scrawny ass whooped, kiddo. You might have to wrestle with fifteen-sixteen year olds, based on what I'm seeing."

 

"I'm not _that_ weak," Eren splutters indignantly. And he's really not, in spite of how he looks. Having been a teenage spy up until now, he's had to go to through plenty of hazardous situations that thoroughly tested his athletic abilities. He's just not...genetically engineered to be muscly and buff. Even though he wishes he is. 

 

"Trying to impress your girl?" Reiner grins, all canine and knowing. 

 

Eren tastes the sweet swirl of white chocolate and almost chokes. He pushes Reiner's one-armed hug off of him. "I _said_ , I don't have a girlfriend."

 

Unfazed by the latter's vehemence, Reiner cocks an eyebrow and says, "Sex friend? With all that anger built up in you, I think you – oh."

 

That's it.

 

 _Oh_.

 

" _Damn_."

 

Yup.

 

Eren has his left hand up, fingers spread apart, ring finger sporting a wedding band of 14k pure white gold, squares of princess-cut diamonds glimmering under the afternoon sun. 

 

"Yeah. I have a date," says Eren. "With my _husband_."

 

And he lets that sink in for a solid moment, proud smirk and green eyes unblinking, as if daring the bulky blonde to do something even remotely offensive. 

 

Reiner wolf whistles, shocked expression fading into lax amusement. "You got me, Smith. Had no idea."

 

It's a good thing that he started wearing the ring again. Before the counselor appointment, the ring would have been locked in his drawer, not because he was ashamed of it, but because it got in the way of his job. Plus, it kind of lost its meaning, considering how much he and Erwin ignored each other as a daily routine. But now, there's meaning to wearing the ring. 

 

Eren looks at the shimmer reflected on the recently polished gems and smiles. 

 

Yeah, there's meaning to it now.

 

-

 

**6:25 P.M.**

**Court Maria.**

 

Court Maria is a 5-star restaurant that has both outdoor seating, for the wealthy that prefer a natural setting, and indoor dining, for the wealthy that prefer not to have their expensive food contaminated by flies and other outdoor inconveniences. The outdoor setting is the beautiful courtyard surrounding the indoor dining area, blooming red and yellow flowers catching the scent of spring in carefully arranged gardens, green leaves dewy after the fall of morning rain.

 

Rose shrubs dot the sides of the cobblestone path leading to each glamorous table in the courtyard. Waiters and waitresses dressed in black and white cater in and out of the indoor and outdoor, feet cautious as they stride purposefully across the white stone. The evening sky is dark blue, the sun shrinking behind clouds. The courtyard is lit by the lights of the indoor dining area, the glass candle holders cradling flickering flames on each table, and dim light bulbs laced intricately around the bushy junipers decorating the expanse of land.

 

A slight breeze ruffles green leaves, tulips, morning glories, and roses. The satin tablecloths flutter, the candlelights in the pristine glasses blink, and quiet laughter fades into the wind. Piano and strings play in a toned murmur, a musical backdrop, tuning the romance in the air like a lullaby.

 

Erwin Smith steps out of his black BMW. He fixes his tie and heads around the car, gripping the door handle and pressing on the lock, pulling it open gently. 

 

Eren's sleeping face greets him. His head lulled to the left, mouth parted, drool trickling down from the side, like a child worn out from a long road trip. His eyelids twitch, awakening, when Erwin reaches out his index to wipe away the trail of drool.

 

"Hngh...Erwin?" Eren stirs, grumbling and blinking several times to clear his blurred vision. He sees lights, candles, trees, lots of trees – tables? 

 

"Eren, we'll be late if you sleep in any longer." 

 

"Late?" 

 

"Yes, we're at Court Maria," Erwin replies, taking ahold of Eren's hand and helping his sleepy lover out of the vehicle. 

 

At the mention of the 5-star restaurant, Eren jumps out, eyes wide and jaw slacking in excitement. Erwin almost loses his balance from the abrupt action, but he regains himself quickly. 

 

A waiter comes over to help them find their designated table. Erwin smiles as Eren lets his wonder and amazement at the sight of the beautiful scenery display over his honest face. They sit down across from each other in a table surrounded by a circle of rose bushes, twinkling light bulbs at their feet lighting up the dark evening. Eren's bright green eyes wander, taking in the sight of other couples seated a good distance away and the different colored butterflies flitting around the flower beds.

 

Everything about Eren, from his earnest, unreserved wonder, to his brilliant eyes, down to his perfectly tailored black and white tux, mirroring Erwin's formal attire for the evening, everything is –

 

"Beautiful."

 

The word leaves his mouth out of its own accord, and it catches the latter's attention.

 

"What?" Eren asks, facing him directly now, leaning forward slightly in interest. 

 

He sees himself in the emerald reflection. The feeling of having Eren's rapt attention, solely focused on him, inflates his ego startlingly fast. 

 

Well, he's always had possessive tendencies. Not many know that. But then again, he doesn't make it a habit to make his quirks known to the world. He has a knack for being obscure, which is one of the requirements of becoming an FBI agent. Secrecy has become a lifestyle. 

 

"You're beautiful, Eren," he intones, smiling as he places his palm over the brunet's hand on the table. The glass candle holder warms their hands against the gradual chill of the night. This evening date, under the blanket of the million stars, is reminiscent of his and Eren's first meeting in Barcelona. A slight wisp of wind, candles, jazz playing in the background...Eren nearly getting in a fistfight with the bartender. 

 

It was certainly a night like no other. 

 

And tonight will definitely be a night like no other. It will be perfect. 

 

He can feel the smooth touch of Eren's wedding ring under his, connected to the white gold of his like a pair of jigsaw pieces fitting into place.

 

Eren's face is flushed a pale pink, mouth dropping open and shutting speechlessly. 

 

It's all kinds of endearing. 

 

"I am at your feet." He intertwines their fingers, his large hand wrapping around Eren's like the sea swallowing a lost ship. "Do you know how much you mean to me, Eren?" he asks, quietly, voice low in a murmur, intimate enough to cast off the other couples around them and create a world of their own.

 

Intimate enough to spark a fire.

 

He can see Eren squirming, and inwardly, he feels content that he has that effect on him. Making Eren flustered is like a second job to him. He will never get tired of the latter's adorable reactions. It's like a drug that he hasn't tasted in a long time.  

 

And then he remembers why he abandoned all of his common senses that short week in Barcelona.

 

Eren has stood up, leaning over the silverware and glass candle holder on the table, a knife clanging noisily against his plate from the movement, breath hot against his cheek. 

 

Soft lips just barely brushing the shell of his ear. 

 

The hair on the back of his neck stands up; a shiver runs through him. 

 

"How much do I mean to you, _Erwin_?"

 

A warm, wet appendage slowly licks from the lobe of his ear all the way up. A few people seated closest to their table catch the act. The men look away, the women stare and blush.

 

Erwin bites down a groan when teeth nip the side of his jaw. Just as he's reaching for the brunet, preparing to wrench him into a bruising kiss as a form of payback, Eren pulls away, sitting back down on his chair and smirking to himself. Looking completely pleased with himself and the world. 

 

Erwin takes a moment to collect himself, and the waiter that's come around to serve them is a good distraction. He breathes evenly, focusing his attention on the menu instead of on the situation in his nether region. 

 

Eren is not as innocent as he looks. 

 

The waiter takes their orders, a red lobster delicacy for Erwin and some sort of Greek potato dish for Eren. The brunet had fumbled with the foreign words (" _Es-escargot Bour...guig...nonne_? Wait, er, what? Erwin, help? I don't – "), and it took a while, but in the end he chose the first thing on the dinner menu ("It just says ' _Greek Sweet Potato_.' It at least _sounds_ like food"). 

 

"It is food," the waiter had corrected him.

 

Erwin couldn't help but let a small noise in amusement escape him, and Eren playfully kicked him under the table.

 

The server tips at the waist and leaves, and that's when Erwin stands up, heading to the opposite side of the table and taking off his outer jacket. The night is steadily getting chillier, the wind a sweeping animal stronger than the last. Now in only his white collared shirt and black vest, the open air feels cold.

 

He ignores the drop in temperature; he's endured harsher weather. 

 

"Do you want to know?" he murmurs, bending down and wrapping his jacket around Eren's smaller frame. It covers him like a blanket, and Erwin finds it endearing. "You mean the world," he says, cerulean blues staring down into the green irises. "You _are_ the world. Eren, you are _my_ world. Don't you ever forget. No matter what happens in the future. Don't ever forget what you are to me. Is that understood?" He leans down, hovering over his young husband, and waits until Eren nods before he lays a chaste kiss on the latter.

 

It's a brief kiss, but it's all that's necessary to seal a promise. 

 

Eren hugs the jacket tighter around him, a cheeky grin on his face, even though he's blushing brighter than the sun, even though he knows there's something grave, something solemn, something strange, about that cryptic statement.

 

"...Erwin..."

 

Erwin only manages to catch the end of his mumble as he sits back down on his highback chair. "Did you say something, Eren?" he asks, relaxed now that he's gotten one thing off his chest. The secrets that he's been keeping from Eren are heavy, heavy enough that he sometimes can't bring himself to see him due to the weighing guilt. 

 

"I said I love you."

 

Time slows down for a moment. 

 

And it's so simple, despite how complicated life is. 

 

A smile, natural as air itself, slowly breaks over Erwin's serious face. 

 

He's been too caught up in by work, by life, that he had forgotten what life was about.

 

"I just feel like I haven't said it lately, so..." Eren trails off, watching for his reaction. "I love you, Erwin," he repeats.

 

Because it's the truth. It's this bluntness, this honest side of Eren, this innocent charm, that has him believing that age gaps, sexualities, all of the hurdles in life, only exist to be destroyed.

 

"I love you, too, Eren."

 

Without thinking, their hands find each other again, rings touching, and when their eyes meet, the only thing they do is smile. 

 

Because words, at that point, are useless.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be working on part 2 of choice, so will be neglecting mr&mr smith until then. hopefully I get back by erurenweek. I have an epic plot in my brain, and I actually want to write it. too bad writing it is the problem gah, anyway, hope ya keep enjoying the read.


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